


Anywhere But Here

by fightforyourwrite



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bathtubs, F/M, Introspection, frat party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 02:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightforyourwrite/pseuds/fightforyourwrite
Summary: At a party, Jean Kirschtein heads to the bathroom to take care of some business and ends up doing something else entirely.





	Anywhere But Here

The walls seem to do a good enough job at blocking out all the noise. Anything less than the pandemonium downstairs comes to Jean as a welcome relief. But even with the bathroom door closed, the music of the party seeps in through the walls. 

The one bathroom that Jean enters happens to be empty. He’s quite lucky to have stumbled upon it. The other ones he had tried were either locked or had people inside them doing things not meant to be done in fraternity house bathrooms. 

The first thing that Jean does is check his reflection in the mirror over the sink. His hair has always been unruly and untameable, the only thing that’s ever been able to keep it down is half a jar of pomade and copious amounts of hairspray. 

Lucky for Jean, his hair still seems to be in order, even at this hour of the evening. But he does have to push back a fly-away strand near his left ear. 

Once Jean is satisfied with his appearance, he puts down his solo cup and gets to doing what he came there for. He lifts the toilet seat without a second thought and starts to undo his denim pants.

However, the second he starts pulling the zipper down, he hears a sound that makes his heart almost skip a beat. 

The curtains draped across the bathtub suddenly jerk open. 

Jean’s first reaction is saying words along the lines of  _ “Arrrrrgh!” _ and _ “Shit!”  _

As quickly as possible, Jean starts to zip his pants back up. As he turns away for the sake of decency, he catches a glimpse of a blonde girl sitting in an empty bathtub.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” comes an exceedingly annoyed female voice. “I thought I locked that door…” 

Once Jean has his belt done up, he turns his head towards his newfound companion with a cautious eye. 

“I’m doing what most people do when they enter bathrooms!” Jean retorts sharply. He faces her completely and they lock eyes, “What the fuck are  _ you _ doing here?” 

“Enjoying the true college experience,” she responds crossly. Her words are spoken with just the slightest hint of sarcasm. 

With a glare from a pair of bright blue eyes, the blonde stranger closes the curtain again, as if the flimsy material was enough to keep her blocked from the world. 

“You can keep doing what you’re doing, I won’t look.” 

The shock of her presence still lingers in Jean. “You know, I could just hold it,” he mutters lowly. 

He keeps his eyes focused on the white shower curtain and takes note of her shape, which is easily seen behind the translucent material. 

Silently, Jean contemplates the reasons as to why someone at an exceedingly vibrant house party would want to spend the night cooped up in an empty bathtub. The possibilities flow inside his mind as he reaches over for his solo cup, which is in the same place he left it. 

As Jean takes a drink of his hastily mixed cocktail, the curtain is jerked back again. Jean nearly chokes on his drink when he hears it open, little droplets of liquid spill onto his shirt and jacket.

“What’s in the cup?” asks the strange blonde girl.

Awkwardly, Jean wipes the dribbles off his henley. “Uh…” he starts to mumble. “...rum and coke.” 

Expectantly, the blonde reaches her hand towards him with the clear prediction that he’ll hand the cup to her. 

Jean decides to give it to her anyway, seeing as the deadly glare in her eyes could practically cut glass. 

With the cup in her hands, she brings it to her lips and rocks it back. Clearly, she intends to finish the drink to the last drop. 

Passively, Jean puts the toilet seat and cover down to make a spot for himself. Once he’s sitting, she’s done with his drink. Wordlessly, she hands him back a cup filled with ice cubes and a single lime wedge. 

Without a second thought, Jean tosses it in a nearby trash bin. He keeps his eyes focused on the stranger in the room, taking in her features. 

Her blonde bangs drape over her eyes and almost obstruct them entirely. She keeps it all tied in the back with a messy bun. Her protruding nose is rather large, but it’s hard to focus on that with the pair of bright blue eyes she has. 

“Do I know you?” Jean asks. 

She shakes her head, “Not sure.” She looks up at him, “I don’t know you either.”

“I’m Jean,” he introduces with ease. “And your name is…?”

“Annie,” says the person who is a stranger no more. 

“What are you doing here, Annie?” Jean wonders. He lets the feeling of her name linger on his lips. He thinks it suits her.

Annie shrugs her shoulders and pulls her knees up to her chest, “Contemplating life.” Her expression turns sour, “Why do you even care?”

“Got nothing else to do,” Jean admits, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean... if I stay downstairs any longer, I’ll sweat through my shirt.” He clasps his hands together, “You come here often?”

“Well… there’s free booze,” Annie answers simply, hoping that her words will satisfy his question. 

Jean lets out a chuckle, “I was talking about bathtubs.” 

“What?”

“Do you often come to frat parties just to sit like a loner in empty bathtubs?” Jean rephrases. 

Annie glares at him without a single hint of amusement. “Is that supposed to be funny?” she asks accusatorily. 

“Kinda,” Jean says. Though his idea of a joke has never been particularly humorous. “But you might need a few more drinks before you actually start laughing.” 

Annie blows out a little more air from her nose than usual, which seems to be the closest she can ever get to a laugh. But the moment doesn’t last long. She forcibly stiffens her expression and asks, “Why are you staying with me?”

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you here?” Annie rephrases. Her hands are gripped tightly on the strings of her white hoodie, “There’s an entire party going on downstairs and you’re up here with me.” 

“Well… I came here to pee, but clearly, that’s not going to happen any time soon,” Jean tells her. “But I think the better question is what are you doing here? A girl like you should be downstairs. Or somewhere. Anywhere but here.” 

“I was downstairs for a while,” Annie corrects. She leans one of her arms on the edge of the bathtub. 

“Hm, guess I didn’t see you then,” Jean remarks. 

“I’m good at being unseen,” Annie explains to him. 

“That’s fitting, it’ll help you find more places to brood,” Jean says in a joking voice. Perhaps she’ll find this joke to be a little funnier than the last. 

Annie looks more annoyed than usual, “I’m not  _ brooding _ , I’m  _ thinking _ .  _ Contemplating. _ Don’t you have any basic comprehension?” 

With her lips pressed in a straight line, she turns away from Jean and rests the back of her head against the back of the tub. It appears that her mind has started to race, “You know what I was doing ten years ago?” 

Jean tries to respond intellectually, “Brooding in smaller bathtubs?” 

Her first response is to glare at him a little more angrily than usual. But in a second, Annie’s eyes soften back into their normal apathetic state and she speaks on. 

“I was thinking about what I’d end up doing in this shitty world,” Annie says melancholically. 

She grumbles and starts to hug her knees. Memories cloud her eyes and her hands start to tense, “Now I’m making out with guys I don’t know in the middle of parties full of people I don’t even care about. And now I’m just here… sitting alone in a fucking bathtub… talking to you. Ten years from now, I bet I’ll be banging guys under staircases or something instead of doing anything meaningful in this stupid world.”

Jean blinks. In the simplest terms, it’s a lot of information to take in. 

He tries to think critically, or at least as critically as someone could after his second drink. 

Jean’s skills in the art of comforting are still in its growing stages. If compassion and empathy were a subject, he would still be on the basics.

But he makes an effort with Annie. Or at least he tries. 

As he looks at her, he thinks deeply and tries to find it in himself to understand how she feels. 

Things with her are subtle, seeing as Annie doesn’t emote often, but Jean picks up on something behind her stoicism. Annie wears her loneliness like a coat and hides away from people so they don’t see her in it. In her isolation comes sadness, and comes sadness comes hopelessness. 

Jean would be lying if he said he had never felt hopeless in his life (and Jean Kirschtein never liked to lie.) 

When he thinks of something good to say, Jean opens his mouth and speaks. He hopes his words are well chosen. 

“Do you really think you’re going to be doing that in ten years?”

Annie shrugs, “Either that or I’m left with a useless degree and no job. Maybe I’ll move in with my mother or something…” 

“Everyone has the power to change,” Jean tells her. He’s quite sure that he’s heard those words on some sort of after school special, but he thinks they’re fitting in the current situation. 

“I mean, when I was a high school, I was a real piece of shit. I thought the only thing that mattered was being cool and popular and stuff. Truth be told, it wasn’t. In the long run, shit like that never matters. When I found that out, I decided to change. So far, that’s been working out well for me.”

Judging by the unimpacted expression on her face, Annie may be getting lost with his words. 

“Where are you going with this?” 

Oddly enough, Jean shrugs, “Truth is, I don’t know. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that shit changes… and so could you. I mean, who knows what you’ll be doing in ten years?” 

On an impulse that he hopes won’t lead him the wrong way, Jean stands up and steps into the tub. There’s enough room for him to sit down on the other side. His boots brush against hers as he settles himself in, burgundy leather bumping with black. 

“Maybe instead of banging guys under staircases, you’ll be…” 

Jean pauses and tries to think of the best way to end his sentence. 

“...banging them in the comfort of your bedroom.” 

Silence followed again. Truth be told, Jean was surprised that Annie hadn’t thrown him out of the bathtub yet. 

When Annie does speak, she says words that are quite different from the ones he expected her to say. 

“That does sound a lot more comfortable than under staircases,” she remarks, crossing her arms. 

Jean’s first reaction is to smile. It seems that his words had reached her. 

“I just don’t think you should stress yourself now,” Jean adds on. “It’s college. This is a party. This is the place where people go to forget all their stress… usually via binge drinking.”

“Fair point,” Annie agrees. She breaks her eyes away from Jean and focuses on the door. The sound of music from all around the house is still fairly audible. “I’m getting out of here.” 

Annie puts her hands on the edges of the tub to push herself up. Once she’s on her feet, she steps over and onto the floor. 

“To do what?” Jean wonders. “To binge drink?” 

Annie shakes her head, “Not really, no. I’m just gonna see if I can snag anything from the kitchen below and head to my place. I don’t know, anywhere’s better than here.” 

“Have fun,” Jean says. He stays inside the bathtub. It starts to feel more comfortable for him with every passing second. 

As Annie walks to the door, she turns back to Jean, “Come with me.”

Jean raises an eyebrow, “Back to your place?” 

“No, just walk me there,” Annie clarifies. “I’m not feeling entirely sober right now and I think that if I want to avoid the life of banging guys under staircases, I better start making better choices. Like you said, everyone can change. Besides, you don’t seem like the worst choice I can make tonight.”

“Uh… okay,” Jean decides. Frankly, her metaphors are starting to lose meaning on him. He’s starting to wonder if they were metaphors to even begin with. 

He starts to climb out of the bathtub and gets to the floor with a lot less grace than Annie had. “Guess I shouldn’t refuse when a pretty girl asks me to walk her home.” 

A look of disbelief comes upon Annie’s face as if that had been the strangest thing she had heard that night. 

“Do you really think flattery works on me?” she questions. 

Jean shrugs, “I don’t know.” He walks to the door and opens it for Annie, “Is it really flattery if it’s true?” 

He doesn’t see the look on Annie’s face as she exits the bathroom, but she raises her hand up and uses it to cover her mouth. Jean believes that she’s smiling and attempting to hide it. It leaves a warm feeling inside of him that isn’t induced by the copious consumption of alcohol. 

Before Jean steps out, he suddenly remembers something he was meant to do. 

“A moment, please,” Jean requests. He closes the door behind Annie. 

Confused, Annie knocks back on the door and speaks with a lot more emphasis in her voice. 

“Hey! What are you doing?!” 

Jean’s voice resonates from behind the door, “I don’t know if you remember, but I came in here to do one thing and one thing only.”

“What?”

“I gotta pee!” 


End file.
